Shame & Guilt
by staceycj
Summary: Post 4X22 Brothers trying to come to grips with the role they played in the Rising of Lucifer.
1. Chapter 1

Door closed. Keys in pocket. Duffel bag dropped. Cover-our-scent-so-demons-Lucifer-angels-all-commers-can't-find-us hex bags distributed around the room. Turn around. Sam still standing behind me.

"You okay Sammy?" I ask him. His features are tight, in the expression that says he is thinking about something, chewing on it hard, like a dog with a new chew toy. I can imagine what it is, but I will never know what is going on in his head anymore, sometimes I wonder if I ever did. I thought I knew my brother, thought I understood him, but he's changed, changed in ways that I can't even comprehend. Guess that's what losing your family does to a guy. Hell I bought a one way ticket to the hot box because I'd lost him.

"Fine." He says flatly. I don't trust that tone. To be honest I don't trust him anymore. He apologized right before Lucifer burst from his cage, but even that is suspect.

"You sure Sammy?"

"Sure. I just need a bath." I nod and he slowly, almost painfully, walked towards the bathroom door and clicks it shut. I wait, listening for the water, then the shower curtain, and when it has been drawn, I open the bathroom door just a touch. I want to know what he's doing at all times now. I don't' trust that he's not going to get on the phone and call a demon and have them come pick him up and take him to his new master.

Sitting on the bed, I watch the bathroom door, it has been years since I have done this. The last time was right after Jessica died, and he was slightly on the suicidal side. Granted it had only lasted for a few days that time, but still, I sat on a bed, very much like this one, and I kept the bathroom door open a crack and listened for him and waited patiently for him to get out of the shower, I had to make sure that my baby brother would be okay, that he wouldn't hurt himself. Now, I guess I'm still in that same boat. I'm watching him to make sure he doesn't' hurt himself, make sure that he doesn't go off with the things that made him their bitch for over a year.

***

I was a demon's bitch, prostitute, and drug addict for a year. I went against everything that was me, I went against my nature, my family, my friends, everything that made me, me and I did her bidding, I freaking raised Lucifer from his cage because I was too stupid, to revenge driven to see it for what it really was. Dean was right, hell Chuck was right, Pamela was right…the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Who the hell am I now?

Who was I before?

I was a hunter.

I was a brother.

I was kind.

"Sammy? You drowning in there?" I sigh.

I was trustworthy.

"I'm okay Dean." I call. Dean only asks me what I'm doing in the shower when he doesn't trust that I'm going to come back out in one piece. He did this same thing when we were kids and I'd have a huge fight with Dad, or when we just started hunting together again and he thought I might kill myself because of Jessica. Then, I wouldn't have considered killing myself, sleeping myself into oblivion, maybe, but not death. Now, however, Dean may be onto something. I know Dean keeps Dad's antique straight razor, a family heirloom, in his shaving kit. I know it. And, right now, I'm thinking that the world might be a little better off without Sam Winchester, bringer of the apocalypse. Oh My God. What have I allowed to happen? What happened to me? When did I get like this?

"Sammy? You okay in there? Sammy?" Dean is closer, he's probably inside the bathroom and just at step away from pulling the curtain back and checking me over.

"I'm okay." My voice sounds weak even to me. Shame is laced through those words. I'm not fine. I'm never going to be fine ever again. I don't deserve to be. I am the worst kind of man—I'm a liar, I'm an addict, and I'm….

"Sammy. Come on out. You need sleep." His voice is concerned, tinged with true fear, but even underneath all of that, I can still hear the man who has loved me all of my life, who has done everything he knows how, to help me make the right decisions in life, and to be the best man I can be. And here I am, less than 12 hours after helping Lucifer break free of his cage, standing in the bathroom shower stall trying to was away my sins. And outside of the room is a man who I beat, choked, left alone and defenseless on the ground, called weak, emasculated, and practically spit on, and he is trying to make sure that I'm okay, that I will be okay, that I won't kill myself, because he still wants me around. How do I still deserve that?

I'm a liar, I'm an addict, and I'm loved. I don't deserve to be loved I don't deserve redemption, I don't deserve forgiveness, yet outside that door is someone who is willing to give me all of that and more. And that is my greatest shame.

* * *

Do you guys want more chapters? Let me know.


	2. Still

"Why do you want to go back to Lucifer Central?" I asked Sam as we packed our bags. The night before had been interesting, between Sammy's crying, and my hell dreams, which seem to have kicked into gear full throttle now that Lucifer is back in town, neither one of us got much sleep.

"I just want to go back to Maryland." He answered without answering me. Which seems to be the norm now a days. It used to be simple. I'd ask a question and he'd answer, and answer me honestly. God I miss those days. Seriously, if he had just talked to me this year, just been honest with me, talked to me sooner, told me about the demon blood, I would have…? What? What would I have done, if he told me in the midst of my most intense days of hell dreams? Would I have actually left him? I came pretty damn close when he told me about his psychic stuff. Would I have actually left him? Probably not. What I probably would have done was exactly what I did. I would have taken him to Bobby's and detoxed him in the panic room, and all that would have accomplished would have been his leaving sooner, and he probably would be more far gone than he is now.

"I'm not going anywhere until I get a straight answer from you."

"I just want to go. That used to be enough for you." He said a little hotly.

"I used to be able to trust you, used to know for certain that you weren't going to go back to demons." Sam looked up at me. His eyes clouded with anger, and then simply with defeat.

"I want to go and apologize to that woman's family."

"What?" I asked incredulously.

"I need to go back there and tell him it was me who killed his wife."

"No, Sammy. That's nuts."

"Why is that nuts? I…I hurt his family."

"This isn't like Steve Wandell. It isn't like this chick was part of the hunting community, and will go 'oh, that's okay Sammy. No big deal. The demon made you do it.' This guy will sic the police on you, and we can't afford to have heaven, hell, and the fuzz on our asses."

"But. But I have to."

"For what reason Sam? What will it do? Besides ease your conscience?"

"You taught me to apologize…"

"I also taught you that demons were manipulative bitches, but that lesson didn't stick. Why should that one?" Sam's brow pinched together, and he looked away from me, looked back down into his duffel and I immediately felt regret wash over me. I was getting angry, and I shouldn't. What was done was done. "I'm sorry Sammy. Shouldn't have said that."

"No. I deserve whatever I get." Now that is a statement that I don't want to touch with a forty foot poll.

"Sammy. Just…no. Okay. We can't do that."

****

Dean's right. I can't go up to this man, and go "hey, by the way, I wanted to apologize for killing your wife. You see, she was possessed by a demon, and when someone is possessed their blood changes, and see, at the time I was drinking demon blood, it was like steroids. Well anyway, I bled her dry so I could break the final seal. Just wanted to apologize." Yeah. That would go over so well. But my soul felt heavy. I needed to unburden something. This guilt is eating away at me. How does Dean live like this? How does he stand it? Dean's felt guilty for everything that has ever happened in our lives, how is it that he can stand the burden? I want to crumble and he can stand straight and do his job.

"How do you do it?" I asked before my brain could filter.

"Do what?" he asked as he threw the bags into the trunk.

"Live with all of the guilt."

"What are you talking about Sammy? The demon blood scatter your brain cells more than we thought?" We got into the car.

"No, it didn't. I'm..I'm just so…."

"Guilt ridden?" I nod. "You just do everything you can to make up for your mistakes. You do what you can. Sometimes it's enough, sometimes it barely scratches the surface." He said and his face went blank and neutral. He was thinking about himself. He was thinking about all of the things he felt guilty and ashamed of. "Sammy…" I turned and he started the car and then looked at me. "I'm glad you feel guilty."

"What? Why?"

"Because that means you are human, that you are still my little brother."


	3. Car Fight

"Where are we going?" I asked as Dean pulled out onto the highway.

"We're going to Bobby's." My stomach sank. I didn't want to go to Bobby's. I hit him in the face with the butt of his gun, surely he won't be happy to see me coming.

"I don't know Dean. I don't know." He turned briefly to me and gave me those eyes that he always gave me when he wasn't quite sure what I meant, and was fairly certain that once he did figure out what I meant that he wouldn't like it. I broke whatever trust I had with Bobby that night, I knew it, I felt it, I felt the bond, the connection, break with the older man, the only man that was left to serve as a father figure in my life. Twice now I abandoned him when I needed him and when he needed me.

"What do you mean that you don't know?" Dean asks, and I guess I have been quiet far longer than I thought I had.

"Well…" I shrug.

"Sam. You can't do this to me again."

"What?"

"You can't be hiding things from me, you can't be lying to me, you just can't…"

"Can't what? Go evil on you again?"

"You didn't go evil on me the last time Sammy."

"Quit calling me Sammy!"

"What the hell is your problem?!"

"Sammy is your little brother, a nice, kind human being. I'm not kind, I'm cold, I'm a killer, I'm a vampire. You said so yourself."

"What?" Dean said incredulously. His voice hit an octave that he hadn't been able to achieve since puberty, Dean really had become a fantastic actor this year, I almost believed that he had absolutely no idea what I was talking about. He knew. He was just trying to play dumb, to make me not feel like a freak, to make me feel like I'm still his brother, I'm not. I'm not his brother, I'm not his Sammy. No matter how much I would love to be that person again, I'm not, I never will be, I've changed to drastically, I've become someone so completely different….I screwed up.

"You heard me Dean. I heard your voice mail." I saw Dean's eyes dart back and forth, he was trying to remember the phone call, or he was trying to think of a way of making the message sound innocuous, and making it sound like something else, make it sound like he wasn't just going to come and hunt me down and kill me like a rabid animal…like I deserved.

"What voice mail exactly are you talking about?" he asked after a moment's thought.

"The one where you told me I was a vampire and that you were done trying to save me."

There was a sudden silence in the car, the Impala even went silent, and the car was NEVER silent. I felt like I was waiting for something to happen, like Dean was going to turn on me with an evil glint in his eye and say 'That's exactly it SAMMY. And now I'm going to kill you.' Or something else equally dramatic and film worthy. But instead he just shook his head and laughed. That was most certainly not the response I was expecting, my stomach sank a little further, I'm pretty sure it's almost to my toes now.

"I never said that Sammy." He refused to give up the nickname.

"You did. I listened to it…just before." I can't finish that sentence, I can't say it out loud. I couldn't say before I drained the woman dry, before I bled her, took her away from her family forever, so I could unlock the final seal and allow Lucifer to rise like some common conniving, underhanded demon. Like a freaking demon. I became a demon.

***

Sammy's posture resembled more of a question mark after my last statement. It was like he realized something about himself and it just put more weight on his shoulders than there had been previously, and in the last two days he had had enough weight added to his shoulders and didn't need anymore. This phone call he is talking about, obviously was manipulated by either a demon or an unfriendly angel. We can't even trust our voice mail anymore. This just sucks.

"Sammy, I didn't say any of that stuff. I called to apologize." Sammy's head snapped up and his eyes blazed, and looked at me quizzically.

"Apologize? For what?"

"For being a dick."

He looked frantic and amazed for a second and then he like launched, it was like someone stuck a bomb up his ass and said that it would detonate if he didn't start talking, and talk he did. "What?! I hit you! Hard…"

"I got a few good licks in myself…"

"I hit you so you fell on the ground, then I tried to strangle you." The memory was absolutely beyond fresh in my mind. That was something I had nightmares about. Same thing happened when he towered over me at the asylum and pulled the trigger on me three times. Sometimes, I was positive my brother wanted me dead, hated me enough and despised everything that I symbolized enough to just kill me. Back in that hotel room, I had been certain, certain as I am that my name is Dean Winchester, that he was going to finish the job, that he was going to kill me.

Despite all of that, he never deserved for me to treat him like Dad treated him. That was unfair then and it was unfair now. I had no right to do that. "But I didn't have to say that I wanted you to stay gone. I was wrong. I…I should have stuck by your side." And here is where my true guilt in the whole situation lies. I should have been with him, been able to stop him, if I had been with them, I could have stopped it, Sammy wouldn't be feeling like he is right now. He wouldn't have the guilt to carry around, that was my cross to bare, not his.

"But.."

"It's not your fault Sammy."

"When are you going to let me take the blame for my own mistakes?!" He exploded in a fury. I wonder if the demon blood is still coursing through his body, and he's going through withdraw again, and if he is, good God, I don't know what to do. It isn't like I can take him to the Betty Ford clinic.

"I will let you take responsibility for the mistakes that are your fault, but I'm not going to let you take the blame for ones that are mine!"

"How can this be your fault?! I didn't see you sneaking out in the middle of the night to cavort with a demon, I didn't know you had demon blood in you too, and you listened to me, you've always listened to me, so that can't be it! So, how in the world can this be your fault!!!??? This is my issues, this is my guilt this is my shame…"

"This is what got us into this mess in the first place."

"What?"

"This selfishness. This is what got us into this mess in the first place. First my selfishness then yours. Either way, it is my fault Sam. I should have gone with you and Ruby, I shouldn't have said that you were a monster….I was..."

"Scared." Sam deflated almost instantly. God I wish I knew what was going through his mind. "I understand scared. I've been scared since I came back from the dead. Scared makes you do all sorts of crazy things." And boy didn't I know that. Sam turned back to the window, his gaze following the cars whizzing by him in the other lane. "I don't want to go to Bobby's."

"I don't care Sammy. I'm older and I know what's best." Sam crawled into himself a little bit deeper and I realized I said the complete wrong thing. Sighing, I rested my elbow on the window and rested my head in my hand, one of these days I will get this right.


	4. Again

The Impala had eaten up the miles, and the silence had built in the car since I told Sam I knew what was best for the two of us. It was wrong of me to say that, especially after what he said in the hotel room. I did boss him around, like four years was such an all mighty age gap that made me so much wiser and smarter than Sam. Who was I kidding?

"Sam?" I asked. He just gave me dead eyes. "Come on Sammy." I pleaded.

"I'm not ready to go to Bobby's yet." He said finally. I think I knew that somewhere in the back of my mind.

"But it's Bobby." I said finally.

"I just can't Dean. Not after what I've done."

"He's family." Sam went silent. "Family forgives." I said hoping that would entice him out of this funk.

"Family forgives." He said flatly and gave me the full weight of his eyes. He was implying that I didn't forgive him for his transgressions as of late. I forgave him the moment he said he was sorry, in that scared, truly Sammy way, the night Lucifer's cage was opened.

"Yes, Sammy, family forgives."

***

"Yes, Sammy family forgives." Dean's voice was sincere, but I found it difficult to believe it. I nearly killed my brother over a week ago, there was no way in the world that he could sit there and tell me that he forgives me.

"How can you say that?"

Dean paused and the only sound between us was the Impala's tires against pavement. "Dean?" I prompted. It was like he went to sleep on me.

"I have to believe it," he said softly. "I have to believe it Sammy or I can't get through the day."

"For what you did in Hell?" I asked. He licked his lips, propped his elbow on the window and pinched at his brows. "You think I need to forgive you for that?" I asked.

"Drop it Sammy."

"No. I won't drop this Dean. There is nothing to forgive. You had to keep your sanity, you were allowed to not be in pain, even if it was Hell Dean. There is nothing to forgive, you protected yourself."

Dean snorted. He didn't believe me. Why was it always so much easier for him to forgive others, forgive me, and not himself? Why is that? I mean, so what, he tortured a few people in the hot box that were there because they were horrible people. I, on the other hand, opened the door on Lucifer's cage, because I was too stubborn, revenge filled to listen to reason, and I am the one who is going to be responsible if Castiel, Dean, Bobby, and I aren't able to keep Lucifer pinned up, for the world's ultimate destruction. Why is that forgivable but Dean's sins aren't.

"You tortured souls that deserved torturing. You didn't harm anyone who didn't deserve it." Dean snorted again.

"I was in hell, does that mean I deserved the torture?"

"No. But Dean….come on. You know what I mean."

"I know Sammy. That's not what I need forgiven for anyway." He said softly. I wracked my brain. What else could there be? For not going with me and Ruby? For what? Not protecting me? For not saving me when I was on the self destruction train? He couldn't fix any of that. He did the best he could. There was nothing else. "I need forgiven for starting the apocalypse." That stopped me dead. What in the hell?

"What?"

"I started all of this."

"No. No. Lilith did."

"No. Sammy. I was the righteous man who spilled blood in hell. I broke the first seal. I started this whole mess. Every last piece of this is my fault." My blood went cold. That explained the demon who wouldn't deal, the whole mess, of course. They all had this planned, the demons knew exactly what they were doing. Dean shifted, I was just about to say something when the radio turned on and blasted. Dean thought I didn't forgive him, and my silence confirmed it. Oh lord. How I have screwed this up. Again.


	5. Everything and Nothing

I was so pissed. Why was he so freaking selfish? Why was it okay for him to drink demon blood, have sex with a demon, and then let Lucifer out of his cage, but it isn't okay for me to have one weak moment in my life….one monumentally weak moment, a moment that had I not had would not have forced Sammy to drink demon blood, listen to Ruby…sigh. Well I guess this is all my fault. Maybe he's right not to forgive me.

Sam keeps looking at me, like he wants to say something. Maybe he does want to say something, maybe he wants to tell me that he wants to get out of the car, that he doesn't want to be in the same car with the guy who started the whole apocalypse.

"Dean…" he starts. I cut him off with a look. I refuse to hear his explanation. I refuse to hear the lie. This is the one action that is unforgivable. He has wanted my forgiveness since I found out about the whole demon blood and opening Lucifer's cage. But, it isn't his apology that needs to be accepted, it isn't my forgiveness that needs to be given. Every single thing that has happened to Sam, the whole demon disaster, is my fault. If I hadn't hesitated when I was in the past, and took out that evil son of a bitch there, Mom would still be alive, Dad would still be alive, Sam wouldn't have been infected with demon blood to begin with, and Mom would have had what she always wanted, two sons raised like regular kids, we would have been normal, and Sam would be a lawyer right now, and he would be that guy, would be that normal Joe, and would have his fancy car, Jessica, and children. He wouldn't have been that guy who changed into something that his former self wouldn't recognize. Mom would be happy and alive, dad would be happy and alive, and Sam would be happy and untainted, and the freaking apocalypse wouldn't be on our door step. But because of my hesitation, because of my weaknesses my whole family has been affected by demons. I don't deserve anyone's forgiveness.

"I'll drop you off wherever." I finally managed. He had to want to be anywhere but here, anywhere but with me.

****

"I'll drop you off wherever." The statement stunned me, the voice scared me, and the square of his shoulders set me on the verge of panic. Dean wanted me out. He didn't want to be saddled with me anymore, he didn't want a man who was now closer to demon than human, a man whose soul was doomed to the fiery pits of hell, and torture, to be here with him, and his newly purified soul. He didn't want me anymore, because I didn't offer forgiveness, because I was too stunned, to shocked that he even wanted or needed my forgiveness to offer it. He has finally decided that I'm not worth it, that I am nothing to him.

"You hate me that much?" I managed to croak out. My throat was dry and my jaw didn't want to work around those words. In the panic room he said that I was nothing to him. That I was a monster. I am a monster. I would hate me too.

"What?" Dean asked, his voice changed to that of curiosity.

"You finally hate me?"

"No. I don't hate you Sammy."

"Then…then…why are you trying to get rid of me?" I ask and I know I sound like a whiny child, but that's how I feel, I feel like my whole world will be taken out from underneath me if he says he hates me. Why didn't I think about this each and every single time that I suckled like a newborn babe, at the teat which held tainted milk? I can't even give her a name anymore. She isn't a she. She is a thing, a terrible demonic thing, and I was its whore, its lap dog. Dean should have put a bullet in my brain, not grabbed me and booked it.

"I'm only trying to do what's best for you."

"What's best for me is to be by your side."

"I'm not so sure about that Sammy." I'm sure of it. I know that my big brother can protect me from all of this, he can protect me from myself, now that I'm willing to let him. That thing clouded my mind, that thing….I can't say that. I let that thing do that to me. I'm as much responsible for this last year as it is. Dean was quiet. He licked his lips, a sure sign that he was getting ready to speak. "I don't know if I can protect you anymore Sam."

"But Dad said you had to." It was a low blow, but his words scared me into it.

"Sam. You don't want me to protect you. I'm not the best man for the job. I'll talk to Bobby. He'd be better."

"No. Bobby wouldn't be better. He doesn't…" I almost said 'love me like you do' but right now, I'm not sure that Dean does love me. I don't even like myself anymore, I can't imagine that he would still love me after everything I've done.

"He doesn't what Sam?"

"He just doesn't…" I said again.

"He does." Dean understood. We've not said 'I love you' enough in our family to know when the other means it.

"Do you?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"An honest one." Dean seemed to think it over. That just about made me certain that he, in fact, did not. That began the process of opening a wound the size of Texas in my already destroyed soul.

"I told Cas, when I was stuck in the angel green room, that I would take all of the pain, confusion, the guilt…all of it…including you just the way you are. And I meant it. And I still do." I blinked. That was the closest that Dean had come since I was a child to saying that he actually loved me. I swallowed and didn't acknowledge it. Typical Winchester. "But, Sam, I, well, it's all my fault. And both heaven and hell will be gunning for me. I, I," Dean was floundering for words. That just wasn't his style. He was hardly ever rendered incapable of coming up with a retort, smart assed or otherwise. "I want you safe." He said at last as he starred down the road. "I need you to be safe."

And that was it in a nutshell, typical Dean, make sure that little Sammy is okay. Make sure I'm safe before he is. It was enough to make my chest ach. I didn't deserve that kind of devotion or love any longer. I simply didn't. But my brother did. He deserved to be safe, happy, loved and content. "I want you safe too Dean." I finally decided on saying. He looked at me briefly like he just might believe that, and turned on the radio to a pop station, music I liked, not him, and turned it up and we continued on our way to Bobby's, everything and nothing resolved.


	6. Bobby

I managed to get us to Bobby's without any more conversation, and the closer we got to the Singer Salvage Yard, the more scared, the more withdrawn Sam seemed to get. He seems to be worried that telling Bobby about what happened will make the older hunter grab his shot gun and force Sam out of his house, or worse, fufill the last order Dad gave me that I can't bring myself to do. No matter how dark side my brother goes, there is no possible way that I would be able to look at him, see those eyes that I'd raised, held in confidence, joked with, laughed with, hunted with, and then simply pull the trigger like he was some monster, he's my brother. And if Sam really thinks that Bobby would be able to blow his brains out like he was simply a creepy crawly, then he doesn't know Bobby at all. Bobby would never do that to Sam, and I know that for certain. Because I told Bobby that I broke the first seal, way before I told Sam, and all Bobby could say was that he would have done the same thing. That faced with the same options day after day after day, that he would eventually have gotten off of the rack and dished some torture out as well. While it didn't exactly make me feel better, it reassured me that he didn't hate me, and that was all that I needed.

I pulled the car into the drive, and Sam seemed to grow smaller when the car stopped. "Come on Sammy, let's go. He's waiting for us."

"Dean…."

"Don't. Just don't Sam. He's family. Let's go." I got out of the car and I didn't' even look back to see if Sam was coming, I knew he would come on his own time. He probably needed some time to gather his courage. I know it took me almost three days before I called Bobby and told him about the whole breaking the first seal thing. But I guess it was probably easier for me to reveal my shame to Bobby over the phone, I didn't' have to see his face, I didn't have to see the disappointment, the anger, the confusion. All I got to hear was his understanding and his reassurance. Sam would have to see and hear everything.

Bobby was standing at the door like I expected. He had sounded pretty anxious when I spoke to him earlier, and a little impatient to check us over. Guess he was afraid watching Lucifer break out of his cage might damage us a little. It probably has but I'm not going to sweat it much, so much damage has been already been done, what is a little more, who would notice one more scar?

"Where is he?" Bobby asked by way of greeting. That was always something I loved about Bobby, he didn't sweat the pleasantries, just went right for the action, if he had something to say, he said it, didn't beat around the bush, I admired that about him.

"In the car."

"Why is he in the car?"

"Afraid I guess.'

"Of what?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Idjit." He mumbled and turned towards the car, Sam was going to get the brunt of Bobby's wrath and it wasn't going to be because he opened Lucifer's cage, it's gonna be for being a coward, for not owning up to his mistake. Bobby wasn't good with that.

*****

I saw Bobby charging at me, and before I could do anything about it he threw open the car door.

"Get out boy." I obeyed. What else could I do? It was Bobby. "Who raised you? Cowards?"

"What?"

"You don't hide from people when you've done something wrong. You know better than that. Get your ass inside that house. Now. Move!" What do you say when Bobby Singer tells you to move? You do exactly what he says, that's what you do. I don't think Bobby knows what he is inviting into his house. Doesn't know the evil that he is allowing to cross the threshold. I hesitated just outside of the entrance of his house, afraid for the first time that the devil's trap above the door might actually trap me, because I think I've crossed that line, crossed the barrier from human to demon. I felt a hand on my back push me forward, it was Bobby's, I just knew it. I pushed myself inside and closed my eyes as I walked through the devil's trap, and relief poured over me as I realized that I wasn't trapped, I was still human enough that I could walk through the traps and the salt lines. It made me a powerful weapon for the demons.

"So, what do you think you are doing, hiding?" Bobby demanded. Good 'ol Bobby, always blunt.

"I just…."

"Just what Sam?"

"Couldn't face you."

"Because of what you did?" I felt my eyes grow gigantic. He knew what I did, Dean told him, Dean must have done it when I went to the bathroom just outside of Toledo, he must have called Bobby, and narked on me. Bobby already knows and he brought me in here to kill me that is the only reason I'm inside. He doesn't want to do it out in the open.

"Did Dean?"

"No. Boy, what do you think every hunter on Earth is talking about right now? Lucifer is free. They don't happen to know how, but I'm pretty sure I can guess. Lucifer's first was Lilith wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"And you killed her."

"Yeah. I'm really sorry Bobby."

"Why in the hell are you apologizing to me boy? I ain't the one you need to apologize to."

"Well the other hunters…."

"No, they aren't the ones either."

"Then?" I was so confused. I needed to apologize for my actions, for setting Lucifer free. Dean taught me while I was growing up, that you apologized if you did something accidentally that hurt someone, and you did your best to make up for it. I had to do that, that was my only way to begin to make up for this mess I created. And if Bobby didn't accept the first apology then who would?

"Apologies aren't going to get you anywhere Sam. Actions will. You need to get your ass off of the pity pot and start working on how exactly you are going to get Lucifer back in his cage. Feeling sorry for yourself, or feeling ashamed are only satisfyin' to you…"

Satisfying? He thinks that my stomach rolling, churning, and tying itself into knots is helping me? All I want to do is curl up and hide from the world. "This isn't helping me…" I began to protest, but Bobby cut me off with a hand gesture.

"Well yeah it must be, or you wouldn't be all whoa is me. Get off of it Sam. You are alive, and you got a job to do. So do it. Now git! Go and get some sleep. You look awful." I stood there frozen. I was just told to go to bed like a child. He wasn't yelling at me because I set Lucifer free, he was yelling at me for feeing bad and beating myself up.

"But…"

"But what Sam?" I couldn't find the words, couldn't form a complete thought. "You are doing what you always do, you are hand wringing, you worry, and then you wrap Dean in promises to kill you if things go any more south. Well, Sam, things can't go any farther south than they already have, and your brother over there." I looked to Dean, who had his head down looking at his fingers. He looked so defeated, so tired, and so worn around the edges. I did that to him. I was the one who made him look like that. "Dean isn't ever going to kill you. If you haven't figured that out yet then, maybe you are the one who hasn't ever known your brother." I stopped, more shame filled my gut. Dean told Bobby about the hateful words I said to Dean.

"I only said that because I wanted you to be as far away from me as possible Dean. I didn't want you near me when the final show went down. I didn't want you to watch…"

"You die?" Dean asked. And that was it. That was exactly why I pushed him so hard. I read Chuck's book recounting the time in which I died. Reading it, knowing that all of it was accurate, hurt me, so bad. Dean had been completely destroyed by my death, and I couldn't do it to him a second time. So, I nodded.

"I would have saved you Sammy. You should know that." Dean said and pushed himself away from the table he was leaning against.

"Sam. I'm not mad at you for breaking the seal. That you did with good intentions. You were doing what you thought was right, and I respect that Sam." Bobby started. "But, I am mad that you worked off of intel that was shaky. We all taught you better. You never listen to a demon. They are manipulative. You should know better. That you should feel ashamed for." And I did. No amount of pressing would ever make me feel good about my decisions. I let Lucifer go, and for that I'm so sorry.


End file.
